


Let Beauty Come Out Of Ashes

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x06, An probably unrealistic ending, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, The Targaryen Dynasty, but a better ending than the one we got.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-09 19:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Like the tag says: Its a better ending than the one we got.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a GOT fanfic, so please be gentle in your comments, but I needed to fix that ending, much like everyone else. I have read some amazing ending, and this came out of having listen to Celine Dion's - Ashes, on repeat. (I was very happy when I discovered other's had the same idea and there were so many video's out with that song!)
> 
> I did change some moments in the scene to fit the ending.

 

_Cause I’ve been shaking_

_I’ve been bending backwards till I’m broke_

_Watching all these dreams go up in smoke_

 

_Let beauty come out of ashes._

 

 

He was cold.

 

Not matter weather which hailed down upon the world. All he felt was coldness. It was in that he knew his next actions would not be justified.

 

She held everything within the palm of her hands, and all he possessed was her heart.

Just a fickle concept, just a simple treasure, but here, right now. It was invaluable possession.

She spoke to him, pleaded with him in a soft and hopefully tone. She promised him a better world.

He knew she believed in herself. He knew her eyes saw an unshakable truth.

A truth which he knew was shrouded and disfigured by her grief.

“Dany… No.”

The words passed his mouth in a broken whisper. He shook his head, eyes burning with tears as he looked upon the grief and betrayal that shattered her features.

As he held her face in his palm, looked deep into her eyes, he whispered the promise he’d taken as a sacred vow. “You are my Queen. Now. And Always.”

 _My_ Queen… Not theirs.

Their lips met, and he drank in her warmth, her sweet taste. He closed his eyes and his hand lowered. He squeezed his eyes shut, closing off his heart to everything else but her. As the heavy weight of the dagger settled into his hand, he moved his lips urgently.

He felt her joy, felt her love for him in their kiss.

He felt it all and his heart ached.

He felt it all: from her passion, to her love, to the stillness that claimed her body as he sunk the blade into her. He did it quick, not wanting to draw it out, wanting to end it here and there.

His very soul shattered, knowing this act would never be forgotten. It would haunt him for as long as he breathed, but it needed to be done. He needed to save her.

His Queen.

He needed to save her from this horrid world, which would take everything beautiful about her and twist it as it’s done to so many others. Her lips left his and Jon opened his eyes, meeting those wide purple orbs, looking deep into them, praying she saw his plea.

Daenerys looked down, her dark brows pulling together into a frown.

Eyes widened as she gasped, inhaling a breath that refused to find home with her beating heart.

“Dany…”

His heart thundered within his chest. He shook his head, words frozen in his throat it seems.

He lowed her down, forehead pressing against hers, skin prickling from the heat of her gulping breathes. This might have been their destiny, but he refused to let the gods claim more than they already had.

He felt her body slacken against his.

His heart slammed against his chest, demanding answers for this vile, unforgivable act.

As Jon dropped down with her, arms curling around her slumped back body, he felt the ground rumble. He knew who it was, but his eyes couldn’t find the courage, the life, to move away from Daenerys.

Jon inhaled, counting his breathes.

The dagger looked tempting, and his heart yearned for its sweet release.

When Drogon appeared, Jon stood tall, opening his mind to the dragon, praying he heard Jon’s thoughts, Jon’s sorrow, Jon’s regret.

 

The smouldering heat of the dragon’s rage morphed into fire burned Jon’s back and sides. As he ducked and cowered from the dragon’s fury, he closed his eyes, heart surrendering to the inevitable.

When silence claimed moment next, Jon lifted himself, pained eyes meeting Drogon’s.

He watched on as the dragon nudged his mother.

He prayed Drogon heard him. That whatever Targaryen blood he had coursing through his being, that it could at least do his for him, when it appeared to be nothing but a curse thus far.

As the Iron Throne melted into nothing, the blood it had caused turning to molten liquid, Jon felt justification. If Dany couldn’t sit upon the throne, no one else should.

Drogon growled and Jon turned back to the dragon.

He looked at Jon, eyes seeking. He nudged Dany once more.

“You know what to do.” Jon spoke in the common tongue. Rhaegal, his dragon for all but a while, had understood Jon and he prayed the same could be said for his brother.

Claws gently wrapped around Dany’s form. His body ached to hold her, to feel her against him but Jon knew he had to let Drogon take her away from this place.

It was the only way to save his Queen.

 

 

*

 

 

When all was said and done, and Bran was named King, Jon refused to meet his sibling’s eyes. He hugged them, spoke to them but his heart yearned for another.

Bran appeared all knowing but given his brother had mastered the art of remaining silence, Jon prayed he would do just that from now on.

Arya would be okay. She had the world at her feet, and a journey of her choice ahead of her.

Sansa had what she’d always wanted. The North, independent, and a crown upon her head. She would be a just ruler, a kind leader and a true Northern Queen. The blood of Ned Stark runs through her veins.

Jon boarded the boat, and turned to look out onto the dock, eyes searching and fixed upon his brother and sisters. He felt his heart shutter when he imaged four others standing beside them.

Rickon, grinning and lively beside Bran.

Robb, tall and proud, with his hand curled around Arya and Bran’s shoulders, blue eyes fixed on Jon too. Jon imagined him nodding, encouraging and proud.

He moved gaze after a while and looked behind Arya and Sansa, to the man with the long face looking out onto the sea. Ned Stark grinned at him, a sombre smile it would seem but a smile none the less.

Lady Catelyn stood beside her children. A mother, protective, with blue eyes cold as ice but a smile as broken as always.

Jon hoped wherever she laid, she found comfort that her remaining children were safe.

A salty breeze ran through his hair and as his curls obscured his face, he watched the image of his family vanished as though being carried away by the breeze.

He nodded to his remaining siblings, knowing they couldn’t see him before he allowed a broken smile to claim his features.

 

*

 

Touching down, Jon forced himself to remain in control. He looked around the dreaded north, his exile: Castle Black.

Hair kissed by flames caught his eyes and Jon quickened his pace.

He met Tormund half away, allowing the giant man to wrap him in a firm hug. He held on for a moment, feeling the man turned his head toward Jon before he spoke the words Jon had been praying to hear since he’d left the dock.

“She made it. She’s fine.”

Relief struck him and Jon sagged into the hold, allowing himself this moment of weakness. It was all he had, his body taunt with tension now relaxed, fear which claimed every inch of his body now seeping away, leaving him feeling cold and empty.

“That dragon of hers arrived just in time. Fucking dagger was still in her but we got some crow and he cleaned her right up. She’s in there, still sleeping.” Tormund pulled away from him, his blue eyes earnest and kind.

Jon nodded, biting back the tears that threatened to escape. He looked at no one, his feet thudding loudly, crushing the snow beneath his feet.

Every step he took had his heart being faster and his hands shaking with anticipation.

Silence surrounded him when he stepped inside her room, his eyes gravitating toward the silver hair that was sprawled across the pillow, blankets covering her form, making her appear so small and fragile. He bit his lip and stumbled over, hands, dirty and cold, reaching for her. It was only when the feeling of her skin touched his palms, her cheeks flushed from the fire crackling on in the far corner, that he felt his body give in.

He leaned down, forehead dropping until it touched hers.

“I’m so sorry, Dany… I had to. I had to.” He muttered to her, fearful that words spoken too loudly would harm her somehow or disturb her from her piece.

He feared what she might do to him when she woke up. He feared she might hate him for all he’d taken from her, but he hoped and prayed she understood.

Whatever punishment awaited him at her hand, she was safe. That was all that mattered.

A whine broke out from the corner and Jon’s head snapped up and over. Blood red eyes met his, and Jon let loose a broken sob.

“Ghost.”

He’d hoped he’d return to see his wolf, his companion, once again. His heart burned, thinking about their last goodbye, how cold he’d been. Jon idiotically had thought Ghost would be all right if Jon had treated him the way Arya had Nymeria.

Now, as his friend made his way toward Jon and Dany, pawed feet touching the bed as he lifted himself up. He felt the mattress sink under his friend’s weight and with a hesitant hand, Jon reached and ran his fingers through Ghost’s soft, thick fur. Warmth seeped through him, and a smile touched his lips as he watched Ghost fit his body, so it curled around Daenerys, his head lowering down onto her lap. Ghost huffed and blinked.

“Thank you, Ghost.” Jon voiced.

His friend merely huffed once more and closed his eyes.

Turning back to Dany, Jon sighed, allowing his eyes to run over her face. She looked at peace, the betrayal and broken grief which had claimed her features was gone. Her brows were smoothed, her lips curled into a faint smile. Exhaling, Jon leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, inhaling deeply.

In the distance, he heard a mighty roar as Drogon called out.

Silently, Jon send a thank you to the dragon. He’d hoped he’d listen to Jon, trust him in way Jon had no right to ask.

“We’ll be okay, Dany.”

He ran his fingers through her hair, her braid having come loose since he’d last seen her. His thumb ran slowing up and down the side of her face, stroking her soft skin.

“I won’t let this world take more from you.” He whispered to her.

 

*

 

She was his Queen.

 

His love.

 

He’d made a promise to serve her.

 

He only prayed his love for her will be enough for her in the days ahead.


	2. Lost On You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel I had not planned on doing at all but here I am...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments and for those who left kudos. It means a great deal to me and helped with my fear.
> 
> GoT is hard to write, I am not going to lie. Modern phrases and language can't really be used so that makes me very nervous when writing.

She felt cold.

Her arms felt numb; her body aching in a way she’d never felt before. Her chest shivered with every breath she took as though the very effort was all too much. Darkness surrounded her mind, her eyes moving around, searching for any form of light.

Something brushed against her hand. She felt the rough touch as it caressed her skin and then something warm covered her frozen fingers. A heavy weight rested upon her stomach, yet it moved easily with every breath she forced into her body.

Slowly, the cold coursing through her body twisted into a sickening pain. She fought to return to her peaceful slumber, hating this feeling and the memories she feared it would awaken.

Brown eyes, so far to see, yet burned into her mind, stared at her. Dany bit back a sob as she watched on, powerless, as her friend, her true friend, uttered the word “DRACARYS” before that foul, wicked woman ended her life.

Dany’s body jerk, as those acting an instinct she was sure was primal. She wanted to run toward Missandei, do what she’d been too weak to do before.

The moment her friend’s head was severed from her body, Dany’s mind flashed alight. Pain shot through her being, gathering to the centre of her chest where her heart still beat.

Her heart…

Jon.

Her eyes burned with tears of betrayal, her heart bleeding as it attempted to hold itself together; too prideful to allow itself to shatter for a man.

But it was not just any man... It was Jon.

Her noble and honourable Jon Snow.

Her hand lifted and warmth caressed her knuckles for sweet moment before lips sealed in the heat. Her fingers twitched at the touch. The grip on her hand tightened and the ground beneath her shifted. It was then that Dany realised the earth beneath her was neither hard, nor cold. It was soft, and warm.

“Dany… love…”

His voice sounded so rough and mystical and her heart wept as her memories forced itself to be seen. His dark grey eyes, wide and terrified, stared back at her from the depths of her mind. She felt the ghostly touch of his lips against hers. Her chest tightened and coiled within itself as the memory of the dagger piercing her claimed her thoughts.

“Dany… can you open your eyes?” He whispered to her. She wanted to move away from him, wanted to rip her hand from his touch.

 

He’d betrayed her. He’d killed her.

 

Her Jon.

 

Her…

 

What was he to her?

 

She did not know.

Slowly, as though drawing strength from the depths of her soul, Dany slowly opened her eyes. Her eyes felt heavy, dropping down stubbornly the more she attempted to open them.

Something shifted beside her and the weight on her stomach lifted. She felt alone in that instant and her heart ached for the heavy weight to return. Then, as if hearing her silent plea, she felt a pressure lower onto her chest. A hot, foul breath brushed her chin and the tip of her nose.

“Ghost.” She heard Jon reprimand.

She blinked, needing to know what has happened. Light peaking through an open drape burned her eyes and Dany winced. She moved her arm, her fingers loosening its grip on Jon’s hand. She tugged and Jon’s hold on her hand ceased, leaving Dany free to rip it away from his touch.

Her body ached and pain burned within her as she shifted in what she now knows to be a bed. “Dany, don’t, you’re still—”

She bit down on her tongue, fighting against the pain, refusing to be its victim. A dragon does not burn. She blinked then, meeting the harsh light defiantly, waiting until her eyes gained its strength. As her world slowly darkened, and the bright white light before her eyes faded away to reveal dark walls and dull drapes, she moved her gaze to the man sitting before her.

Tears glimmered in his dark grey eyes and Dany fought the urge to reach for him. She recalled a time when Jon’s smile was a gift she’d treasured so dearly, her heart aching whenever a sombre frown befell upon his Northern features.

He may be a Targaryen in blood, but his eyes, his lips and his nose and mouth had been moulded to fit that of a true northerner.

The love within her heart darkened into something cruel and tainted as she recalled his wide eyes as he willingly pierced her with his dagger. A silly girl, she’d been. Allowing her heart to blind her from the truth.

There was rumble above her, and she felt it flow through her body. Her gaze broke away from Jon and she looked down, only to be met with beautiful red eyes, glimmering and gleaming, white fur a shroud of snow, warm to the touch. Her heart pained at the sight of his right ear, skin broken and tore apart. She pressed her lips together mournfully.

“He isn’t heavy, is he?” Jon asked her.

Angry and hatred pulsed through and her dark gaze snapped over to him. He had been looking at Ghost with a gentle smile, yet when her eyes fell on him, his shouldered visible tensed and his smile slipped from his face as he turned to her.

Neither said anything for a while. Dany attempted to speak but her dry throat made it impossible. She needed water, but she refused to ask Jon for help.

Her once beloved shifted away from her, increase the space between them. Yet his hand remained placed on the bed, fingers pointed toward her.

“I know you’re angry. I know I betrayed you.” He spoke to her, eyes bravely meeting hers. She saw the resignation in his stare. His honest heart long since surrendered to his perceived inevitable fate.

Her eyes flickered to the left and then to the right.

Greyworm was nowhere in sight.

She was alone with him.

“I couldn’t let you continue, Dany.” Dark eyes bore into hers. “You’ve always said you wanted a better world, a world where everyone was safe and loved. But you were destroying that very world. And you were going to continue destroying it.”

Her lips twisted, and she swallowed down the disgust that tore through her at his words. Missandei’s eyes and warmth smile came to mind and Dany blinked, feeling the pressure behind her eyes.

She had cried for her friend and had mourned for her friend. But she refused to show weakness before her enemies.

Jon’s wolf grumbled above her and his heavy, heated body shifted closer to her. For a moment she swore she felt a glimmer of comfort touch her soul.

“I had no other choice, love.” Jon’s fingers dug into the mattress and Dany tensed up in fear that he might touch her again.

She swallowed and opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Dark grey eyes widened. Dany watched as Jon jumped from the bed, body hovering over hers as he reached over to the side table. A cup appeared before her and she glared at him. Its cool rim touched her lips and Jon’s eyes softened.

“Just drink, love.”

Her heart twisted at the word. Dany recalled how warm and whole she felt whenever Jon called her “love”. She heard the vow of something greater in that one simple word. Now, she could not trust it.

Begrudgingly, she parted her lips and allowed the cold water to touch her parched tongue, drinking it down to sooth her dry throat. Relief ran through her, her body awakening from the nourishment.

When she had had enough, she leaned away, and Jon instantly took the cup back. Dany licked her lips and with great effort she planted her hand on the soft mattress beneath her to lift her body up and away from him. Pain ignited within her chest and she bit down a gasp.

“Easy.” Jon soothed her, only to flinch the second Dany’s hard eyes snapped up to glare at him.

Once her body lowered onto the cushions behind her, she met Jon’s regretful stare with uncaring eyes. The mask she’d come to wear around her enemies hide her true emotions and found some comfort in that truth.

 

Dany felt betrayed.

 

She felt cold and alone.

 

She had no one now, once again.

 

Her children were dead, and she prayed Drogon had left her. She hoped he’d be far away from here. Her family was no more, and her future seemed so far away.

“Why am I here?” She asked then.

Jon’s body tensed up and his hand shifted as though to reach for her, only to stop a second later. “I had Drogon bring you here after, in hopes that you would be treated immediately.”

 

_I had Drogon bring you here._

 

Dany hardened her heart. “ _After_ you betrayed me, you mean to say?”

Jon flinched as though her words had inflicted physical pain. _Good_ , a cruel voice echoed within her mind.

“I had no other choice.”

“Yes, you did.” She told him. “And you chose to betray me.”

“I chose to _save_ you.” He corrected her; his voice urgent. A small, weak part of her believed him. Dany swallowed down and blinked. Jon sighed, features tightening.

She was physically too weak to do much of anything. Every move left her in pain. She wanted to leave this place, leave _him_ but she had no means to do so.

“Dany— _Daenerys_.” He remedied when he saw the look within her eyes at his use of _that_ name. “I had to stop it all. You know in your heart that what you did was wrong. You know it. I know you do.” He said with great passion. “This world is a cruel place, Daenerys. It has taken so much of you already. I couldn’t let it claim more of your soul than it already has.”

The empty chasm within her ached as though to confirm his words. She gritted her teeth, holding onto her mask.

“If you had done what you were planning to do. You would never be the same. All that you’d wished for this world would have been gone.” Jon, in a fit of insanity reached out and grasped her hand, his grip fierce. “I love you too much to let that happen.”

“Love?” She uttered the word in a disbelieving tone. “You call what you did to me ‘love’?”

Her stomach burned as her eyes dropped. She recalled the shock at seeing the dagger imbedded in her. She’d felt its sharpness with every breath she took, felt it cut deeper into her.

“You betrayed me, Jon Snow.” She voiced. “Don’t make it so you appear the hero.”

“It’s the truth.”

She looked away from him, her throat burning as the urge to cry made itself known once more. She blinked in a vain attempt to remain in control, yet her body betrayed her as a single tear broke free, rolling down her cheek.

Just as she made move to brush it, a rough tongue ran over her cheek. She gasped and snapped her head away, purple eyes widening in shock as Ghost pressed his nose against her cheek as if pressing a gentle kiss of his own against her skin. Her heart ached for Drogon in that moment.

A majestic roar broke the silence, shattering her cold world and warmth exploded within her at the sound. She turned to the window, eyes wide and hopefully. Her heart leaped against her chest and Jon shifted, turning to look out the window.

“He’s been flying around, roaring every so often in an attempt to wake you.” Jon confided.

“You didn’t kill him?” The question sprung from her lips without thought.

Shocked, Jon’s head snapped over to her, dark eyes widening. “Of course not.” His eyes ran over her in disbelief that she would assume he was capable of such a thing. He continued. “I know it may not seem like it now, Daenerys, but everything I did, I did because I love you.” He turned his entire body to look at her and the part of Dany that still loved and trusted this man noticed his curls were no longer bounded back. Instead it hung free, framing his bearded and scarred face.

He appeared younger than ever. She’d caught a glimpse of this man before her, yet only in those rare moment of pure peace, when it was just her and him, stripped bared and curled in one another’s arms, his hair wild from her fingers. She used to run her fingers through those soft curls, smiling softly whenever he sighed at her loving caress.

“When am I free to leave?” She asked when the silence became too pronounced.

Jon paused, eyes dancing back and forth before he answered. “As soon as you have gathered your strength.” His eyes lifted and met hers. “Will you return to King's Landing?”

Dany glared at him. “I have nothing to return to. You saw to that.”

He licked his lips, and Ghost whined softly beside her. Without thinking, Dany lift a hand and ran her fingers through his thick fur in an attempt to comfort him. Jon watched her actions, eyes pained and sorrowful.

Clearing his throat, Jon shifted on the bed. “I understand if you want leave here, never to see me again. But I’d hope, if you can find it your heart to forgive me for what I’d done, that you would consider coming with me.”

Her fingers which have been running through the direwolf’s fur stilled. She looked to the Northern man before her.

Jon sighed. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But,” his gaze bore into her then, “I would do it again, if I had to. You are and will always be my Queen. And I will do everything I can to protect you. Even from yourself.”

She held back a flinch. With great force, Dany uttered her next words coldly. “Leave.”

She gave nothing away as she watched Jon bow his head for a moment, curls obscuring his face from her view. He nodded and lifted himself off the bed, his eyes running over her frame as though to ensure she was in no danger. His gaze fell on his wolf and Ghost simply lowered his head down onto Dany’s chest.

Her fingers gripped the fur, her heart twisting at the thought of the wolf leaving her side.

With one final glance over his shoulder, Jon opened the door and closed it behind him. Dany flinched at the slam and Ghost shifted closer to her. As the heavy echoes of Jon’s boots faded into nothing, Dany felt her armour crumble with every step until the wall around her broken heart collapsed, allowing a hurricane of emotions to burst forth.

She turned away from the world as tears rained down her cheeks, biting back a sob.

Her fingers gripped onto Ghost’s fur and wolf lifted his head. Dany turned toward him, burying her face into his neck, a heart-wrenching sob shattering her body, the pain from her wound burning on, fuelled by her fear, her loss and her emptiness.

 

She had no future.

 

She had no love nor family.

 

Jon had done what’s she’d feared since learning the truth of his parentage.

 

He had taken everything from her.

 

All in the name of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Lost on You by LP.


	3. Holding On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is... the final chapter.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support. This was my first GoT fic and I had been so nerves but your find words and kudos made helped with my insecurities.
> 
> Spread love and joy!<3

He was alone.

High above the wall, he stared down at the endless white grounds as it its spread far east and west, the snow having fallen endlessly, removing all evidence of movement and trace of life.

It was deceptive, the snow.

Gentle and beautiful it appeared from within the safety of a warm home. Yet its brutal nature was only revealed to those who dared travel through it. Jon knew how unforgiving the snow truly was.

He’d experienced the worst of it in times of utter devastation. His heart had been frozen along with world around him, warming for a short moment when he’d been in Ygritte’s arm.

Jon had not known true love. Aye, he knew the love of his brothers, the love of his sisters and father. Yet, true love always evaded him. It was a treasure lorded over him by those born without a bastard’s name, held out by Lady Catelyn Stark as she laughed and smiled with her children, only to be snatched away when her cold blue eyes turned on him.

The love of his people never meant much to him. He respected them. He would die for them, but he closed his eyes every night, knowing had anyone else other him been alive, they would sooner burn him than glorify him as King.

Love had only shown itself in the presence of Daenerys.

It filled him when she smiled at him.

It warmed him when she laughed and drew him into her arms.

It remained with him when he closed his eyes and felt her body curled up against his. She’d loved him with all her heart, opened it in up a way Jon was sure she had never done with anyone. He’d accepted her love, treasured it, for he knew it was a rare thing to possess.

The love of woman who’d been beaten mercilessly by this world.

Disgust filled him once more. He swallowed thickly, and closed his eyes, feeling the icy pricks of the hailing winds against his face. High above, the air seemed to be frozen, forced to move only by the winds breathing over the North.

“Jon.” A deep voice said behind him.

With resignations etched upon his face, Jon turned, address Tormund with a grimace-like smile.

Tormund stepped forward, his red hair flaming in the cold blue day. “She’s awake. Want’s to see you.” The Wildling came to halt beside him, eyebrow raised, waiting for Jon’s answer.

A moment of silence passed between the pair.

“How is she?” Jon asked after a while. He turned to look out before him. He thought back to the offer he’d made Dany. A small part of him knew she would never accept him, not after his betrayal.

And why should she?

Jon didn’t deserve her.

He never had.

It was life that had brought him to her. It had been moments he’d had little control over that had revealed to him the beauty that was the woman in his company, not her physical beauty, but her heart…

Her cold mask could ever hide her eyes. Soft, violet orbs which held compassion and love for her people, for _all_ her people. The light which had once brighten her eyes had dimmed, leaving her appearing hollow but Jon knew the woman he loves was still in there; heartbroken and scared.

“Cold as the North.” Was Tormund’s reply. “But she’s a fighter. I see it in her eyes. She got Wildling blood in her.”

Jon scoffed at the words. “She’s a Queen.”

Tormund gave him a look. “And you’re a King. That don’t stop you from being one of us. From joining us.”

A King…

Jon was unsure of far Varys’ spiders had gotten. He knew not who knew of his parents, and Jon hoped the news never reached this far North.

“I am no King. Not anymore.” “Then, you might as well start acting like a fucking Wildling. We don’t got time to brood and look pretty out there in the North.”

Jon turned, a smile growing on his numb face. It required too much energy to hold in place, hence a moment later, the smile dropped.

“Fuck.” Tormund sighed beside him, shaking his head. “You had to do it.”

“Did I?”

“From what I hear, it was either stab her or let her burn the world around her.” Tormund lifted his shoulders heavily. “I know your heart, lad. You would not have let her done that. You love her too much.”

Words died within Jon. He exhaled through his nose and swallowed once more. Tormund understood him, in his own way. He understood the dark roads one must take to protect the people you love.

He never talked about it, but Jon knew he’d lost someone too. Someone important a long time ago.

Jon would never ask him. It was not his place. It’s best to leave the dead buried and old scars hidden. Picking at it did more harm than good. As the time passed by and the world slowly turned to a twilight hue, Jon gathered the courage he knew he needed to face Dany once again.

Ghost was with her the last time Jon had laid eyes on her; his friend having taken Jon’s place. His heart ached to be close to her, but Jon held back the desire to seek her out himself, choosing to leave the decision to Dany.

When she was ready for him, he’d be there.

He would always be there…

“I need to go.” Jon voiced, both to himself and Tormund.

“Good luck, lad.”

With a clap on the back, Jon walked away from the wall.

As he had his way down, his eyes found her standing a good distance away from all the other watchers. Her once worn face was smoothed out into an indifferent expression. Beside her stood Ghost, his tall stature meeting Dany at the waist.

Her hand was buried in his fur and it remained there as she took a step toward him once he touched the ground. With a deep breath, Jon steeled himself, opening the gate to step out. There were few brothers wondering around, no one quite sure what to do now that the Wall no longer needed to be protected from the White Walkers.

Last Jon heard Bran had decided to keep the Night Watch as a prison. Jon didn’t care much for news regarding the Night Watch’s, nor anything about politics. He’d made his decision long ago, all that was left was for Dany to tell him her answer.

She stopped a fair distance away from him.

Jon closed it for the both of them.

“Daenerys…” He said her name softly.

Purple eyes bore into his, her lips pressing together when she took a step forward. His hands lifted on instinct, only to freeze when her eyes dropped to watch them. Cautiously, Jon lowered his hands, fingers curling into tight fist.

When she looked at him once again, a glimmer of an unidentifiable emotion appeared on her face only to vanish with a blink of the eyes.

“Are you well?” He asked, eyes dancing over her body to assess it.

“I’m fine.”

His eyes snapped up at the sound of the words being forced out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think --- I didn’t mean for it sound…” He stumbled over his words, unsure of what to say. Everything sounded wrong in his head.

Dany had no sympathy for him. Instead she stared at him, leaving him to his own expense. Ghost stepped forward, nose pointed toward Jon’s hand. Gladly, Jon uncurled his fist, palm opening before his gloved fingers caressed the wolf’s snout. Sniffing, Ghost turned his head into the touch and Jon’s lips lifted into a smile.

His attention remained on Ghost for a moment. He waited for Dany to say more, waited for her to tell him she will be leaving and that she never wanted to lay eyes on him ever again, or, gods hoping, she wanted to be with him.

“Can we go back to the room?”

Jon looked up and met her steely gaze.

Wordlessly, Jon nodded and together the two turned. He caught sight of Tormund far ahead and the Wildling gave him a nod of solidarity. Jon inhaled, stepped back to allow Dany to lead the way. She took them to her chambers, opening the door for Ghost before following him. Her steps were measured, and her hand hovered over her wound.

Pain struck Jon and he looked away in shame.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Dany gingerly lower herself onto the edge of her bed. Her hair had been freed from all those intricate braids and instead was gathered into one single braid which wrapped around her neck and came to rest over her shoulder.

His heart tightened.

She looked so young. Youthful in features yet her eyes screamed of pain and horror, purple orbs darkened from the haunted sights it had witnessed.

Jon turned his back to the wall before him, hands meeting behind his back as he waited. Ghost padded across the room and curled up by a low crackling fire. The room was no longer bathed in the warmth light it usually casted, instead shadows danced across the walls, hovering over them both.

“Tell me again.”

Her request erupted a wall upon his thoughts, leaving Jon’s tongue tied as a confused frown stiffened his face.

Seeing this, Dany raised an eyebrow. Her eyes dropped to her lap for a moment of contemplation before she inhaled a deep breath, her eyebrows pinching together. “Tell me why you betrayed me.”

The accusation in her tone was like ice through his veins. It burned every part of him.

Opening his mouth, Jon repeated his reasons for her. “You were going to do something you’d regret. I had to stop you.” She lifted her eyes and more words passed his lips. “I knew you were hurting. I knew you felt as though your entire world was falling apart and the only way to make sense of it was to destroy anything before it too turned against you. I know you were in pain, after losing Jorah and your Dotharaki and… Missandei. I know you loved her like a sister. I know what pain like that does to someone. And I know what it feels like when you look on and see what’d you’ve done in the name of that pain.”

Jon exhaled sharply, eyes shifting and body moving. He hadn’t released he’d taken a step toward her.

Dany scrutinised him with a cool air. “I don’t feel regret.”

Jon’s chest tightened.

“I feel nothing. You said I loved Missandei like a sister, then you understand that when Cersi killed her, I had to do the same to all those she loved.” She appeared unflinching and uncaring. “You betrayed me when you told your sister who you were. You took from me what was rightfully mine.”

“I didn’t want it!”

“So, you say.” She looked at him. “Yet, life hardly ever grants us what we want, we both know this to be a cold truth.”

“Dany…”

“Do not call me that.”

He moved then, his knee sinking until it met the flooring. He reached for her, grasping her hands into his. Her body tensed up, eyes flashing as though his touch ignited by an internal flame.

 _A dragon burning with fury_ , Jon thought.

Her fingers remained lifeless in his grip, but Jon held on. He lifted his head and met her eyes. “I know you’re hurting. I know you’re in pain and I know I am in some way responsible for that pain.” His face crumbled as pain twisted his insides, yet Jon refused to allow his emotions to weaken him. “I am so sorry for what I did, love. I took from you more than I can ever make up for. I know this, but I ask you, please, love, think about this. Think about what you are saying.” He pleaded with her. “Anger is a poison, Daenerys. It corrupts you; you know this better than anyone. You know how cruel anger can make someone. You once promised yourself to never allow anger to fuel your soul. You once told me anger should never touch innocence.”

Her violet eyes shifted, and Jon held her gaze.

“I had to…” She forced herself to say only for the words to get caught in her throat.

Dany shook her head and Jon tightened his hold on her hands, grabbing and reaching for the small glimpse of the woman he loves.

“I know you did, love. I know why you did it.” He told her. “That’s why I had to stop you. I had to protect you.”

Her pale lips pressed together, and her fingers twitched.

“I love you. I should have told you long ago.” He confessed to her something they both knew to be truth yet never uttered. “I love you, Dany. I love you and I—”

She ripped her hands from his.

Jon froze in fear as her hands enclosed around his face, palms pressing against his bearded cheeks. She bit down on her bottom lip, eyes shutting as the wall around her heart cracked. Jon leaned in slowly, and she met him halfway, her forehead touching his.

Jon never closed his eyes.

His heart broke as he watched tears escape from the prison of her eyes, running down her pale cheeks.

She never made a sound.

Jon remained still, his fingers digging into her thighs every so often, before he ran them over her legs in a comforting caress. Tears dropped down onto her lap and when it all became too much, she leaned forward and Jon lifted himself up, feeling her wet face burying itself into his shoulder and neck as his hand threaded through the silver strands of her hair, holding her close as she mourned.

Pain shook her small form, and her body sagged as the weight and burdens of her soul caved in.

A warm body brushed against his and Jon heard Ghost whine. He felt his friend wiggle his head between Jon and Dany, resting it upon her lap as he too offered her the comfort and love she so desperately deserved.

His arm wrapped around her and Jon vowed to never let her go.

 

He only hoped she never did too.

 

*

 

When morning came, Jon extracted himself from the chair he’d fallen asleep in.

His eyes found Dany where she laid curled around Ghost on the bed. Exhaustion had claimed her body not long after she’d allowed herself to cry and Jon had carried her to bed, hoping he’d done her some good.

She stirred just as he retrieved a cup of water for her. When he turned back to face her, she was sitting up on the bed, her eyes tired yet no longer as cold as he’d come to know it to be. A glimmer of light sparkled within her violet orbs and Jon prayed it never dimmed again.

Moving closer, he lowered himself onto his chair, reaching over to hand her the cup. Hesitating for a moment, Dany accepted the cup and drank some before turning to Ghost to offer him the cup. The wolf lapped up the water eagerly and Jon felt a pang of self-hatred.

With Dany having remained within her chambers, and Ghost refusing to leave her side, the wolf must be starving and thirsty.

“I feed him some of my food.” Dany spoke up. She looked at him for a moment before turning back to Ghost, waiting patiently for him to finish. Once he was done, she left the empty cup on the vacant space beside her on the bed.

“I’ll have Tormund bring him some more.”

He had been a horrible friend.

Dany said nothing, only lifting her hand to run her fingers through Ghost’s fur.

Silence claimed the room and Jon let it.

He waited, watching Dany with soft eyes as she caressed Ghost.

Then, she turned to him, the light from the window catching her eyes “I won’t go with you.”

A blow unlike any Jon had ever felt struck his stomach and his breath remained trapped within. He clenched his jaw and held in the pain.

“I understand.” He forced himself to say.

Dany looked at him. “Do you? Truly?”

“I won’t pretend it’s doesn’t break my heart, Dany. But I won’t force you to be with me.” His hands curled into a fist, nails digging into his bare palms.

She fell silence once again and Jon waited, eyes running over her, wondering if she was dismissing him. She appeared to be thinking, her eyes dancing around her lap.

As he made move to rise from the chair, Dany’s gaze met his once again. “Will you wait for me? If I asked?”

Hope burned in his heart. “Always.”  He spoke without thought.

The corner of her lips moved, and Jon’s eyes fixed upon it. He waited for the sight of her beautiful smile, but it never came.

“I might never return.” She continued.

Jon nodded. “I know.” She gave him a look filled with distrust and disbelief.

“And yet you will wait?”

With no other means to convince her of his heart, Jon lifted off the chair and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, body turned toward her. He laid a cautious hand on her leg, just above her knee.

“My heart is yours, Daenerys. It will always be yours, from now until the end of my days.” He swore to her.

He knew she didn’t believe him, and he could hardly fault her. She had every right not to trust a single word he uttered.

Ghost shifted beside her, red eyes finding Jon’s. He saw the kindness within his friend’s red jewelled orbs and when Ghost huffed, Jon swore he heard the approval in the soft exhalation of air.

“Where will you go?” He dared to asked.

Dany looked at him, eyes darting across his face, searching for falsehood.

“I’m not sure.” She answered.

“I’m sure Drogon would love to be away from the harsh Northern weather.”

She hummed.

A brief silence fell between them.

It was never liked this. Though silence was never an foreign occurrence for them, their silence had always been spend just being in one another’s presence. Jon would take the time to explore every inch of Daenerys’ body without the desire to be intimate with her. It was a new experience for him; to know he could love someone without having to constantly act upon that love.

“When do you leave?” Daenerys’ soft voice broke the silence.

Jon swallowed. “We’ve been waiting of your answer. Tormund wants to leave as soon as possible.”

She nodded. “Then I better get ready.”

His eyes stayed on her as he watched her rise off the bed, patting Ghost soothingly when he grumbled at her leaving. She hardly had much possessions, all her things were on the ship Grey Worm had taken.

Jon wished he’d made the effort to find out where the General had taken his army, but Jon knew it would have been unwise.

He wondered if Grey Worm would rejoice if he knew his Queen was safe.

He wondered if Dany would take it upon herself to find Grey Worm, her Unsullied and her Dothraki.

When all her possesses were packed into the single chest, she turned to Jon and met his stare. Holding it, Jon lifted himself up off the chair and slowly made his way toward her, stopping a few spaces away.

“You better let Tormund know you are leaving.” She said.

Jon looked at her, heart aching to hold her in his arms once more. He knew a loss such as this would never be cured.

His blood and his soul craved for her.

Coldness appeared have found a home in the hole within him whenever she wasn’t near.

It was a feeling Jon knew he’d have to learn to live with.

She may never return to him again.

And he deserved all the pain that harsh truth brought forth.

 

*

 

Jon stood beside Tormund, watching with an empty heart as Drogon’s monumental form shrunk in size until Jon could see him no more.

The dark abyss in his heart grew until he was left feeling hollow and empty. He swallowed around the burning sensation in his throat as a body brushed against him. Without looking Jon’s bare fingers sunk into Ghost soft coat, feeling the heat and hoping it would remedy with void in him.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, but Jon barely felt it.

“You doing alright, lad?”

Jon nodded.

Tormund squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s leave this shit hole.”

Too weak to smile, Jon exhaled softly through his nose, dropping his head to nod.

As Tormund rounded up the Wildlings, Jon returning to his chamber to gather all his possessions, strapping Longclaw to his belt. It was then that a silver glint caught his eye. As he moved to his fur cloak, Jon’s heart plummeted to the depths of his soul.

With tears burning his eyes, Jon slowly reached out for the three-headed-dragon brooch. His fingers traced the heads.

Thoughts of Rhaegal flashed through his mind; kind and sweet Rhaegal. He knew he’d bonded with the green dragon in some way. Jon had felt connected to the dragon whenever he rode him. Dany never explained it to him, for she believed there was no need to.

No one other than a Targaryen truly understood the bond one can share with a dragon. He’d unknowing formed a connection with the dragon, and Rhaegal without thought had reached for him too, sensing in him what neither Jon nor Dany knew.

Haunted violet eyes, swimming in tears drifted through his thoughts. He curled his fingers around the three dragon heads before pressing it to his lips. Finding the nearest surface, Jon dropped down on the edge of the bed, eyes closing in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay.

He had no one once again.

He could never see Sansa nor Bran ever again. Arya, he hoped, was safe and happy on her journey but it would be years before he laid eyes on her too.

And Dany… She was his family, in blood and heart.

He never thought of her as his aunt. This truth only reared its ugly head during those moments when she’d needed him, _wanted_ him. He loved her, there was no denying that.

It had taken a war and thousands of innocence dying before he could understand that their shared relations truly meant nothing to him, not the way he knew it should.

She was all he had left in this world…

And now she was gone.

 

*

 

“We can set up camp, here.” Tormund instructed.

Without another word, Jon did was he was told. He made camp, helping where he could with the other wildlings.

They knew him as the man who defeated dead.

The man who rode a dragon.

The White Wolf.

He was all those things no more, yet they all still saw him as such.

When night fell, Jon curled up on the floor of his tent, listening to the winds howling in the night. Ghost laid beside him, his head beside Jon’s. The little children seemed to have grown fond of Ghost, keeping a cautious distance from the direwolf but grinning whenever he accepted what little food they offered.

Ghost whined and Jon ran a comforting hand over his back.

“I know.” He whispered hoarsely. “I miss her too…”

 

*

 

Jon lived every day as though it wasn’t his to live.

He’s taken the role of hunter, the role of cleaner, the role of caretaker.

Kraeva, a wildling woman who tends to the wounded and pregnant, had needed some assistance and Jon had been the only helping hands available. He took care of any bloodied rags, cleaned what needed to be cleaned, held what needed holding.

He shared some leadership roles with Tormund, but the red-haired man knew better than to ask Jon to take on more than he should.

He was tired of fighting.

He was tired of leading.

He was tired of living.

Every night before he closed his eyes, he searched deep within for the faint connection he shared with Drogon and when he felt nothing except a cold lingering void, he force himself to fall asleep, for tomorrow was another day.

 

*

 

He knew they whispered about him.

 

“Aye, he needs a good fooking.”

 

“No, he’s lonely. He misses her.”

 

“Who?”

 

“The Dragon Queen.”

 

*

 

As days become months, Jon found he woke up less hopefully every morning.

But every day, he’d find a reason to smile.

Oshana, a wildling girl who had taken it upon herself to greet Jon the moment he stepped out his tent had been the first to resurrect his soul from the pits of despair.

Then a smile reclaimed his mouth the day he’d been forced to help Kraeva deliver a baby boy. Omae, a young girl of ten and eight years, named her son Snow.

Jon had vehemently attempted to persuade her to change the name, but she refused.

Everyday he found a reason to smile and every night when he closed his eyes he fell into the void he’d come to know as a companion, with Ghost loyally beside him.

 

*

 

He woke with a start once night when something slithered through his body.

Jon touched his chest, heart thundering on from within.

Then, the ground underneath him shook. A roar tore through the silence and Ghost leaped to his paws and took off to protect, only to howl for Jon a moment later.

Jon followed his friend just as he slipped on his boots, his heart and mind racing as he lifted his sword, readying for an attack.

“Snow!”

Jon spun around and his heart stopped at the sight of those deep red eyes fixed on him. He caught a glimpse of a wisp of silver behind the enormous body.

“Dany…” Jon’s tongue moved to form her name.

It sounded so sweet.

Longing filled him as hope re-emerged from the ashes.

As Jon raced toward Drogon, he heard the shushed whispered all around him, some Wildlings covered and steered clear of the dragon, while others, those who had fought with Jon and Dany against the Night King, kept a cautious a distance but remained standing tall before the beast.

Ghost’s white fur was a beacon in the night, calling upon Jon to come closer. With hope bursting through him, like the gushing of ocean waves as they crashed against walls and rocks, Jon moved forward.

He saw her just as she lowered herself off the Drogon’s back.

She turned to Drogon, her once long hair now only reaching her shoulders. Her body had changed, and Jon’s mind attempted to memorise every transformation he could see.

“Dany…” He spoke her name softly, carefully.

At the sound of his voice, she turned, and Jon’s heart shattered to a million pieces when saw the small bundle in her arms. Purple eyes, wide and joyous met his and a breath-taking smile soon joined.

Voices could be heard all around him.

He saw Tormund from the corner of his eye but all he cared about was Dany and…

He moved forward, eyes unable to comprehend the sight before him. He blinked rapidly, convinced this was all a dream. Cold winds touched his face, washing away those thoughts.

Dany walked over to him, her smile never faltering.

“Jon.” She said his name as a greeting and it was the sweetest greeting he’d ever heard. Tear sprung in his eyes and Jon attempted to blink them away.

Once she was close enough to touch, Jon reached out, palm cupping her jaw.

Her warm skin seeping through his entire being and the hollow hole in him slowly shrunk in size. He bit back a sob at the sensation and then his eyes dropped. The bundle wiggled and a tiny hand peeked out.

Tiny fingers spread and Jon, looking to Dany for answers, waiting until she gave him a teary nod, before he reached for the little hand. Strong, fragile fingers curled around his one and Jon laughed and cried all the same.

“Fucking hell, Snow!” He heard Tormund behind him.

Dany spoke as though she didn’t hear the Wildling, “I wasn’t sure. I thought… I suspected but I feared the worst when you stabbed me.”

Darkness claimed his soul and Jon’s wide eyes snapped up, meeting hers with horror. “Gods, no…”

She shook her head, shifting the babe over to her one arm to reach up and cup his face with her free hand. Her skin burned against his and a gentle thumb brushed away his tears.

“You couldn’t have known.” Jon swallowed thickly. His head spun, making him dizzy, and his meal for the day threatened to be brought up. His eyes dropped, and wide purple eyes met his, glimmering with innocence. A sweet face framed with a head of dark curls blinked up at him and Jon shook his head.

 

He…

 

He could have…

 

“Jon.” Daenerys’s gentle voice urged him to meet her eyes. Jon, unable to look away, shook his head once more.

Tears ran down his cheeks and, with his free hand, he reached out to ran his fingers gentle over the babe’s hair… his hair….

Dany’s eyes, wide and trusting blinked up at him. Meaty cheeks puckered up as beautiful smile spread across the babe’s face.

“Her name is Rhaena.”

“Rhaena…” Jon whispered softly.

 

His daughter…

 

He had a daughter…

 

“Would you like to hold her?”

Jon nodded, blindly moved and opening his arms. Dany moved around him, shifting Rhaena as she reached over and gently the weight of his daughter was lowered into his waiting arms. He drew her close to him, cradling her to his chest.

She reached up and slapped his cheek and Jon laughed wetly. He closed his eyes as more tears rained down on his cheeks. Drogon rumbled beside them and Ghost howled with joy.

Leaning down, Jon brushed his nose against Rhaena’s, lifting her to press a soft kiss against her forehead, feeling her skin against his lips and the heat of her small body. He inhaled, cautiously securing her in his one arm, hand holding into her tight.

Fearful he might drop his daughter, Jon hurriedly reached for Dany, pulling her close to him. Her body fitted against his, and Jon felt his soul mending itself.

Daenerys curled her arm around Rhaena and thus him too as Jon wrapped his arm around her to ensure she remained at his side.

He turned his head, dropping kisses on her forehead, words unable to adequately expression the love and joy and utter disbelief raging on within him. A gentle laugh escaped Dany and Jon found himself crying once more.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” She whispered into his neck.

Jon shook his head. “You’re here now. You bought me… you gave me her.”

Words evaded him in that moment. Jon tightened his hold on Dany, kissing her forehead again. She pressed into his body and Jon closed his eyes, revelling in the presence of his family, feeling them in his arms as their warmth seeped into his skin.

A hand ran through his curls and Jon sighed, opening his eyes. He looked down to see his daughter’s eyes were closed, her small rosy lips puckered up as she blew into a tiny bubble. Turning, he looked down and met wide purple eyes.

Dany gave him a soft smile.

“Shall we find some shelter?” She asked.

Jon cursed and turned, looking around him. Most of the Wildlings seemed to have gone back to their affairs, leaving Jon and Dany to their privacy. He caught sight of Tormund not far away, the redhead’s eyes wide as a mad grin split his face apart.

“Aye. We can go to my tent.” He looked up to Drogon, to find the beast staring at him with those blood red eyes, his warning clear in them. With a nod to expression his eternal gratitude to the dragon, Jon turned him and Dany around.

Together, with their arms curled around one another, they made their way to his home.

Once inside, Jon lowered himself onto his spread, legs crossing as he looked down at his sleeping daughter, watching for any signs that he had disturbed her. Dany placed herself before him, legs curled to her side. Her short hair curtained her sweet face and Jon felt his lips grow into a loving smile.

“You cut it.” He voiced.

Dany nodded, lifting a hand to run her fingers through her hair. “Within the Dothraki, one’s hair is representation of the many battles you’ve won, with each braid signifying your victory. The war against the Lannister may have been won but I lost my battle. So, I cut it.”

Jon’s expression tightened. “Dany –”

She shook her head and smiled at him. “It was no victory.” She looked down at their daughter and her smile softened. “I have found a new beginning. I do not want to taint her world with my sins.”

A new beginning.

Jon’s heart clenched with pain as he looked upon his daughter’s face once more. “I cannot believe I almost killed her.”

A part of him wanted to hand Rhaena over to Dany. He did not deserve to have his daughter in his arms but another part of him, a much larger part, never wanted to let her go.

A hand fell on his arm and Jon looked up.

“You didn’t.” Dany looked at him. “She was meant to be here.”

Something broke within Jon at her word. Dany’s face smoothed and before he could voice his question as to what was wrong, she leaned for, his Queen, her hand moving to hold his face in her soft palm.

Sweet, gentle lips captured his and Jon’s inhaled at the touch. He closed his eyes, drawing his daughter closer to him as he opened his mouth, needing to taste Dany. Their tongues met and Jon hastened the kiss, teeth gently biting down on the soft pillows. Dany sighed, kissing him back with passion; gentle and sweet as she parted his lips with her tongue.

With one final lingering kiss, Dany drew back. Jon chased after and she granted him one more kiss, before sitting down with a smile on her face.

“Later.” She promised. “For now, I think you’d like to spend with your daughter.”

Jon smiled at her words, eyes dropping to the babe in his arms. He traced her features, searching for himself and Dany in her.

She had her mother’s nose and Jon’s mouth.

Her eyes and his hair.

Her sweet face reminded him of Arya as a babe, however Jon suspected most babes looked similar around this age.

He hadn’t been around Sansa when she was this small and as he got older, Rickon and Bran had been the hardest to spend time with during those ages.

“She is breath-taking.” Jon whispered. “A miracle.”

“A dragon and wolf.” Dany added, her voice gentle and barely loud enough to break the dream Jon had found himself in as he sat there, enchanted by his daughter.

Such a small being whom he’d known for barely an hour yet he knew with an unshakable truth he’d burn the world before he let anything happen to her.

Ned Stark’s voice drift through his mind: _You’re my blood_.

Jon sighed, finally understanding…

“When do you have to leave again?” Jon asked, his eyes moving over his daughter, trying to burn into his memory every detail about her before she was taken from him.

Dany paused and Jon held Rhaena closer to him.

“I am not leaving, Jon.”

His head snapped up. “Truly?”

Dany shifted forward and its then that Jon realised Ghost had joined them. His friend laid beside Dany, his head closer near her lap and his eyes fixed on the small fragile person in Jon’s arms.

A hand caressed his face.

“Never again, my love.”

He leaned forward and she met him halfway, lips pressing against his sweetly. A small sigh escaped his daughter and Jon broke away from Dany, eyes dropping, alert. There was a small chuckle from his Queen but Jon, once again, found himself unable to look away from Rhaena.

“It seems you will have to be my companion from here on, Ghost.” Dany teasingly stated. “My dear Jon had found a new love.”

Ghost grumbled with delight at the idea.

Outside Drogon released a grumble of his own and Dany laughed.

 

*

 

Jon feared the world would take his family from him.

Everyday when he woke to see Dany’s bright smile in the morning light or her soft features smoothed out as she slept on, his heart quickened at the thought.

He left every so often to return to Essos with Dany and Rhaena, meeting the people who’d housed Dany and cared for her as she grew their daughter within her belly. Some days he never wanted to leave, but they always did.

As his daughter grew before his eyes and her sweet melodic voice uttered the name “Papa” for the first time, Jon felt that fear return.

When Daemon and Laela were born, both babes a mirror of their mother save for Laela’s dark grey eyes, Jon had found the nearest Heart Tree and prayed to the gods to protect his children. He fought with a fiery passion when Lannister loyalist had discovered his family’s existence, leaving Jon with no other choice but to killed them all.

He never saw Sansa again, nor Bran.

Dany had sent a raven to Grey Worm, and felt for two days to visit him, leaving their children in Jon’s and the Wildlings’ care.

When Arya found him, Jon had embraced her, kissed her forehead and whispered to her how much he’d missed her. A new scar marred her smooth face, a long since healed cut which reflected the one on his left eye.

She loved his children, smiling at them and training with them in her short stay at Essos. She gifted Laela and Rhaena daggers of their own, refusing to reveal how she came to possession Valyrian steel. When she left, with a promise to see them again, Jon had asked her where she planned to go next to which she replied:

“To see an old friend.”

He suspected he knew who she was referring to and Dany confirmed his suspicion when she asked if Gendry Baratheon had yet to find himself a Lady.

 

Jon feared for his family.

 

But he knew how blessed he was to have them here.

 

He cherished every laugh, every smile, every word he shared with them.

 

He loved and cherish Dany with every breath he took.

 

She was his life.

 

She was his love.

 

She was his family.

 

And she was his beginning and his end.

 

And he hers too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side Note: The 'snow' at the beginning is a metaphor for Jon himself.

**Author's Note:**

> So although it is highly unlikely, Jon didn't stab her in the heart, I like to think as a war hero, he knows where to stab people to make sure they die, and also to make sure they don't. He stabbed her somewhere that wasn't close to her heart, it was only to make it seem that way to others. 
> 
> He wasn't sure if he would survive, so he had Drogon take her to Castle Black where he knew Tormund would look out for her should he die. 
> 
> I think a lot of crap happened to Dany, and after they killed Missandei in front of her and Grey Worm, I just wanted it all to stop for her. So I did that through Jon.
> 
> May the fandom keep Jonerys alive and happy.


End file.
